


one of these days i'll make it big

by impossiblyincredible



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, forbidden knowledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblyincredible/pseuds/impossiblyincredible
Summary: “Hey, do you think this means we could get some playing time?”“Do you want playing time?”Oliver hesitates. “I mean, yeah?” Mike looks up and gestures for them to elaborate, and Oliver shrugs. “Just feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for it.”
Relationships: Mike Townsend & Oliver Loofah
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	one of these days i'll make it big

**Author's Note:**

> hi i have no explanation for this or why i care so much about oliver loofah but [gestures] here you go! hope you enjoy! 
> 
> oliver uses they/them

“Mike,” Oliver says, skidding around the corner and into the doorway. “Holy shit. Mike.”

“Wh—”

“They can see us. I mean, they can see  _ me _ now. Someone  _ saw _ me.”

For a second Mike just stares. “ _ What?” _

“Yeah!” Oliver jogs over and flings themself on the counter, cheerfully ignoring Mike’s disapproving glare. “Dude! No one’s  _ ever _ seen me before.” 

Mike knows—it’s one thing to be a player who retreats to the shadows, and another thing entirely being a player that never came out of them in the first place. People see him sometimes, and even if they forget later, it’s still nice to talk to them. Well. It’s nice most of the time. 

But it’s hard to be pessimistic about it when Oliver’s eyes are this alight with excitement. 

“Do you know who it was? And did they remember? That’s the kicker, isn’t it?”

“Um—” Oliver scratches the back of their head. “Either Sparks or Paula? Always get ‘em confused. But  _ dude,_ yeah she totally did, because she left the room and then she came _ back _ to ask me if I’d disappear or something.”

Mike’s eyes widen. “Shit.”

Oliver nods emphatically, kicking their legs. Sighing, Mike pointedly dusts his flour-covered hands directly over their lap, and they yelp. “Hey!”

“Oh, I’m  _ so _ sorry. I guess that’s what happens when you sit on the goddamn counter.”

“Mike!” But Oliver gets down, petulant like the little sibling Mike  _ never _ asked for, and sprawls across the barstools behind the counter. 

Interesting that the regular roster can see them now. Mike turns that over in his mind. Regular season started today, but no shadows trades or anything, and nothing about this happened at the end of the last season—

Maybe a coherent explanation for this shit is too much to expect. It’s not like that’s how it’s ever been before, and at any rate, they’ll figure it out at some point. That’s always how it is—seemingly ridiculous until a few seasons down the line, when it all seems so inevitable Mike feels a little dumb for not putting it together earlier. He looks down at the dry ingredients, deems them satisfactory, and moves on to the wet ones. 

Oliver knows him better than to ask if he needs help, but they eye what he’s doing with a curious eye. “What’s that?”

“Muffins. Lemon poppyseed muffins.” Mike’s glad Oliver  _ also  _ knows not to press the shadows thing, let him adjust to it. They know he's got a history with all that.   


“Nice! Man, I love those.”

Mike bites back an  _ I know _ _,_ and does his best to pretend like he wasn’t making them for Oliver’s birthday tomorrow. Convenient thing about baking so much, he supposes, is that people are always somehow surprised when you bake something for them specifically.

“Did you check with the others yet? About the—” he waves his hand in Oliver’s general direction.

“Oh, not yet. It like, just happened. Hey, do you think this means we could get some playing time?”

“Do you  _ want _ playing time?” 

Oliver hesitates. “I mean, yeah?” Mike looks up and gestures for them to elaborate, and Oliver shrugs. “Just feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for it.”

Mike isn’t sure if he can relate, but Oliver’d probably known that when they came in and told him. The only thing  _ Mike _ really misses is talking to the people that had known him before. He’s started staying away from the roof—Betsy’s always up there.

“You’re a good player. They’d be lucky to have you.”

“I’m not  _ that _ —”

Mike reaches over to grab a handful of flour from the still-open packet and turns toward Oliver. “Finish that sentence, Ollie. Come on. That’s a really nice black shirt.”

“Dude!” Oliver says, laughing. “Fine. I’m a decent pitcher. But I’m not like,  _ Goodwin _ good, you know that.”

Mike shakes his head. “Yeah, but she was underperforming her stars last season, so stars aren’t everything. I’ve seen you play.  _ I _ might be a shitty pitcher, but I can recognize good pitching when I see it.”

“You’re not a—” One look from Mike stops them in their tracks, and they scratch the back of their neck and look away. “I mean, fine. But it still doesn’t justify that whole  _ shitty _ song series.”

“Never said it did.”

“If I ever get out of the shadows, I’m gonna have  _ words _ with Tommy—”

“—Teddy—”

“— _ Teddy _ _,_ you know. Get his ass for letting that happen.”

Mike smiles at that. They’ve been through so many iterations of this conversation. “Tell him I’m so torn up about it I can’t even bring myself to practice.”

“But none of us practice.”

“Yeah, but come on.”

Oliver laughs, and Mike nudges him with an elbow. “Hey. Preheat the oven. 375 degrees.”   


“Aren’t you supposed to do that before you start?”

“Aren’t you supposed to keep your mouth shut if you’re not the one baking?”

“Oh, so if I’m not baking, I don’t have to preheat the oven, then, right? So I can just sit right here.”

Mike’s always been proud of his ability to keep a straight face, something that serves him well as he launches a fistful of flour at Oliver’s shirt, ignoring their startled shout. “Are you gonna preheat it now?”

“Goddamn it, Mike—” But they go, glaring at him as they crank the knob up. 

“Hey, you should go check if anyone else has been seen. I remember Lori saying she was gonna use the training room earlier, so she might’ve seen someone there.”

“Yeah, okay,” Oliver replies absently. “Do you think anything will actually happen?”

Mike shrugs. “No idea. But either way, it’s a good thing if they’re starting to see us, right?”

“Guess so,” Oliver says, and it’s back, that excitement gleaming in their eyes. They head to the door and wave as they go to find Lori.

It’ll be good if Oliver gets out of the shadows, Mike’s decided, but that doesn’t mean Mike won’t miss them once they go. And he doesn’t really have a doubt about that—there are enough blessings that have to do with stars, and Oliver’s worlds better than the rest of their shadows rotation, so it’s more or less a matter of time until they play their first real game. 

Mike will be in the stands. And who knows, maybe Oliver will even know it.

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever think about how if oliver got out of the shadows there would be three olivers on the garages. do you
> 
> anyway thanks for reading! if you liked it, feel free to leave a comment, or my tumblr is @goodwinmorin!


End file.
